There was never a shortage of strong or wise apostles.
Among them, one who could match Herder's wisdom was Ross.
Held answered patiently, "This weapon is different from ordinary weapons. Its user cannot be any of us. The dimensional wall prevents our bodies from descending into that world. This is an absolute barrier formed by the differences between dimensions. The stronger we are as individuals, the stronger the rejection."
"So, we need a messenger," Ross said slowly.
"That's right. Although the dimensional wall prevents us from crossing, we can still spread the name of the apostles and eliminate the differences between the two worlds. In this process, the wielder of this weapon will open the door for us. At that time, the thirteen of us will gain a new chance at survival in a brand-new world."
"I'll join," Ross said calmly.
"I'll join in," another voice added.
A vague and illusory shadow walked leisurely out from the darkness, like smoke but not smoke, and within it, the outline of an enchanting woman was faintly visible.
When she reached the blueprint, the smoke dissipated instantly, revealing a scantily clad woman.
The Fifth Apostle, the Invisible One with Countless Faces, the Stalker Silok.
The enchanting woman smiled seductively. In her hand, an invisible dark purple sphere, like smoke but not smoke, emerged and slowly floated upward.
At the same time, the ground trembled.
Heavy footsteps made the earth groan in agony. A massive figure, its head alone larger than all the other apostles combined, loomed in the darkness.
After a deafening roar in an unknown tongue, the massive beast slowly opened its jaws, and from its lava-filled mouth, it spat out a molten sphere. The lava churned, filled with surging, pure fire energy.
The Seventh Apostle, Antuon the Flame Devourer, became the second to contribute his power.
The fire energy slowly rose, joining the smoky dark purple sphere at the center of the glowing blueprint.
Next came Conqueror Casillas and Ross. Each separated a portion of their power and offered it to the blueprint.
Thus, scarlet red, dark green, deep blue, and dark purple—four original energies from the apostles—gathered at the heart of the design.
These forces, though different, shared the same origin. Under the guidance of the blueprint, they coexisted in harmony.
Under the gaze of the apostles, Held raised her slender wrist, lifted her scepter, and closed her eyes slightly.
The crystal teardrop beneath her left eye shimmered brightly.
Half of it separated and swiftly flew toward the blueprint.
It became a sphere of energy as dark as night, slowly merging with the others, settling in parallel with them.
Moments later, three figures emerged from the shadows one after another.
A four-legged creature, covered in a black and purple poisonous mist, crawled slowly onto the platform. From within the mist, it opened its long, thin mouth and spat out a swirling energy body wrapped in violet fog, which shot into the blueprint.
Then, the creature slowly retreated, once again fading into the darkness—
The Sixth Apostle, the One with Dirty Blood, the Black Plague Diregi.
Behind it, two figures with opposing auras approached from opposite directions.
One was a tall, thin man with an evil, chaotic presence and an enigmatic smile.
The other radiated an indescribable holy light.
The Eleventh Apostle, the One Who Came Back from the Dead, the Demon God of Chaos, Ozma. And—
The Twelfth Apostle, the One Who Sees Through All Truth and Falsehood, the Ancestor of Holy Light, Saint Michael.
They each stepped forward and contributed their energies to the blueprint—one black, one white.
Like the others before them, their energies shared the same origin and fused together seamlessly.
By now, eight energy spheres had gathered at the center of the blueprint.
Suddenly, a long and piercing whistle echoed across the circular platform.
A colossal shadow descended, streaking through the sky like lightning before landing in front of the blueprint. From its beak, it spat out a gray sphere of light.
A massive avian with eight wings stood before them, wreathed in thunder and lightning. With every beat of its wings, storms and tempests roared around it, its power terrifying.
The Third Apostle, the Ruler of the Sky, the Genius Isis Prey.
Watching the sphere of light rise into the blueprint, the giant bird let out another long cry before soaring upward, whipping the air into a frenzy with its wings.
At some point, a short old man had taken a place beneath the blueprint.
He gazed up, silently observing it.
The old man had white hair and a beard, was short and hunched, and carried a tattered backpack stuffed with wrenches, hammers, and other peculiar tools.
Strange triple-lensed glasses obscured his eyes entirely.
Without a word, he slowly opened his palm, revealing a small, bird-egg-sized crystal, half black and half white.
The two-colored crystal floated up from his hand, merging into the blueprint.
Then, without looking back, the old man turned and walked away, making room for the figure behind him.
This was the current Ninth Apostle, known as the Silent Earthtender, the Monarch of Hyperion, the Maker Luke.
Behind the short old man stood the towering Tyrannosaurus King Bakar.
After hesitating and stalling for so long, Bakar finally decided to contribute his power like the others.
He didn't trust Held, the "sister" who had once plotted to kill him, but he trusted Luke's wisdom.
And he would do what Luke did.
A sphere of orange fire, crackling with violent energy, merged into the blueprint. This was the power of the Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Now, the blueprint contained the power of eleven apostles.
Only two more remained.
A graceful figure stepped forward with brisk steps.
Without a word, she raised her hand, and a pink energy sphere gradually rose from her slender, delicate fingertips.
From start to finish, the apostle hidden beneath her cloak did not speak. Only a single, twitching elf ear could be seen beneath her hood.
At this moment, the entire platform fell into an eerie silence.
A man walked toward the blueprint.
Many apostles instinctively retreated…
As he moved, the light around him dimmed, and darkness rushed in to engulf him. But soon, even the darkness faded, leaving behind only an abyss of nothingness—formless, senseless chaos.
The man was like a silent black hole. His very presence annihilated everything in its path—light, matter, even space itself.
The uncontrollable pressure radiating from him made most of the apostles feel an unshakable dread. Only a select few could resist it.
The man raised his arms.
The platform blazed with an unbearable brightness.
An unprecedented, dazzling, sun-like golden sphere of energy rose from his palm.
Under its glow, even the distant star in the void seemed to fade.
The golden energy illuminated the man's face.
He wore a strangely shaped mask, and his eyes burned with a brilliance that outshone the stars. His overwhelming presence made all the elaborate designs of the apostles seem insignificant and hollow.
There was no doubt.
He was the strongest among them.
The supreme king of the demon world.
The First Apostle—
The King Who Is Not Afraid of Death—
The Fatalist Kahn.
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